[Giving up his struggle with rice-pudding in despair.] I suppose so.
Aubrey.
In fact, we see very little society now.
Cayley.
[Sententiously.] Society only likes people who feed it, my dear Aubrey. You ought to have kept that cook.
Aubrey.
[Meditatively.] So my daughter said.
Cayley.
Ellean? Is she with you now?